I Said No

Chapter two

"Happy birthday Taylor!" I yell as I walk through the door to her hotel party. We were told to dress up and most people actually did.

It's December and raining outside. Dave is frustrated with me because I parked on top of a lake and he stepped into it getting his dress pants soaked, but Dave is my best friend's brother so it will eventually resolve itself. Who wants to walk into a party with their pant leg wet to their knee? I understood his frustration. Tonight, I volunteered to be the designated driver because the hotel was nowhere near any of us. I brought a car full of friends over.

"You look beautiful," I say as I walk up to her, still yelling because the music is so loud. I take a look around. It feels like I'm moving at a different pace than everyone else. They're all drunk, they're all giggling, they're all holding on to each other for support, they're all friends with each other. And then there's me. Me and my drinking friends, the kind you never bring home to your parents, the kind you meet at college and then forget about. Those are the friends I brought in my car. I do have one real friend here though; my best friend, Layla.

Layla is also Taylor's best friend. Tonight they are the best friends and I'm just here. They both have their deep brunette hair curled the same way. They both are wearing little black dresses. They both are already so drunk, hugging each other, holding each other up, giggling. So much giggling.

"We have an outfit change for every hour of the party!" They both squeal to me. They could be sisters, well besides the fact that Layla has beautiful Latina olive skin and Taylor is pale as pale can be. Not a bad pale, she's still gorgeous. They're both just above five feet; that cute short girl with a tiny body and big boobs, that is both of them. Then add in the clear skin, bouncing locks and fun personality. And you have the duo. The best friends. But tonight, with their matching hair and matching dresses, same drunkenness, same high pitched squeals—they could be sisters.

"No way, that's the best idea I've ever heard," I say as enthusiastically as I can. And they buy it.

"FABIAN JUST PEED!" Someone screams at the party. I'm not sure who said it. But I need to find him. I need a good laugh.

"Where is he?" I ask Layla.

"Oh," she says and then let's out a school girl giggle, "He's in the bathtub."

"In the bathtub?" I repeat. Why is he in the bathtub?

A short walk later, a drink placed in my hand, a shot with someone else and there he was, laying in the bathtub, passed out, with a crotch of wet pants.

"Typical, Fabian," someone mutters as they walk by. This was typical. I let out a deep laugh, one that releases a pressure in my chest. This was typical? Who are these people? I need to find Layla. She was my people. My only real people that was here.

Where'd she go? I don't see her or Taylor anywhere. Someone asks me if I need another drink. I mouth 'DD,' because it's too loud to hear anyone over the music, but it's not a good enough excuse for him. No one has DD's anymore it seems like. But I insist and show him the drink that's already been placed in my hand. He is trying to flirt with me. I recognize him, but what is his name? I've seen him around this crowd before. Tan skin, nice hair. He's not looking as good as he usually does tonight though. His skin seems a little more grey and not as clear as I remember it was the last time I saw him. Maybe it was too much alcohol. But what's the harm in smiling back?

Danny, that is his name. Danny.

"Dave," I yell over the loud music. He doesn't hear me. "DAVE!" I shout louder.

"Yes?" He says to me as he walks over. He's medium in height, slim, and still annoyed with me. He's ready to party and not hang out with me right now.

"Have you seen Layla?" I ask.

"Last time I saw her she was in the bedroom," he replies and walks back away. He's talking to a cute girl. Obviously, more important than helping me find his missing sister.

The door is closed, but it's Layla. Who cares. She's my best friend too. I open the door and Layla looks up at me with this absent look. Someone's holding her, a boy. Cash? Yes, Cash. I've always thought he was adorable. Not in the date you kind of way, he is younger than us, but he is cute. Blonde, blue eyes, perfect teeth, a little on the short side. Not hot, adorable.

It's like she doesn't even see who I am. She's looking right through me. Looking at the wall behind me. Was I invisible?

Drugs.

They're doing something in there. Something white. I've never seen it before. I'm not even sure what it is. I smell weed, but that's not what this is. That's always around. Everyone in Eugene Oregon smokes weed. Everyone but me, again, the odd one out. What would make her like this? I understand she was already wasted. But what drug would make her... Not see me?

"Get out!" Layla piercingly screams at me.

I quickly close the door again and run to the bathroom. Running with as much dignity as I can. With a smile, pretending I am having fun, acting as if all is well. As if my best friend didn't just scream at me.

I lock the door behind me and stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. Why am I always so in my head? Why couldn't I just drink and relax and have fun like everyone else? Would a staring contest with myself break me? Could I win or she win and I could be normal? What am I even saying? I get some toilet paper and wet it under the sink faucet and clean up the edges of my eye makeup. The cool water is soothing.

I look back up at the mirror. There I am. Long brown hair, hazel eyes, but more green tonight, pale freckled skin. I dressed up. I was trying to be friends with her friends. I did my hair, did my makeup. I look pretty good. 'Shorty with a booty,' is what I have been called since middle school. How can someone have more than one best friend? Was I being too clingy? Did I have any right to be jealous of their sister-ness tonight?

It's time to go.

I try gathering my friends that I drove and let them know if they want a ride I'm leaving or they can stay and continue to party.

"We can keep the party going at my house if you guys want," my friend Alicia says. That sounds like way more fun than hanging out with these people I didn't know. At least I somewhat knew my drinking friends. After tonight, I could use a real drink. Lots of them. Without the worry of driving my friends. I've crashed in Alicia's bed with her many times before. 

"Emily, can I come too?" Danny asks me.

***Author's note***

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